


Light at Dol Guldur

by Orcbait



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cannibalistic Thoughts, Comedy, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, just burglar things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:48:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4689578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orcbait/pseuds/Orcbait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Due to being chronically short on liquid assets Lheodwyn has gone into the Greenwood in search of treasure. Few go there these days for rumors of eerie happenings around the ancient ruin of Dol Guldur. However, Lheodwyn doesn't put much stock in the superstitious talk of farmhands and milkmaids. It wouldn't be the first time she explored a 'haunted' place, only to find nothing but the abandoned riches of the long since deceased. Surely, this time will be no different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light at Dol Guldur

Lheodwyn sighed in disappointment as she leaned against the statue and glanced up at the sky. Evening was falling and she’d spend another day searching with nothing to show for it. She glared balefully at the stone elf, cracked and mottled with age. She was a burglar by trade and had come up from Lake Town to explore the Greenwood because people seemed to avoid it these days. She’d thought it an opportunity  - treasures lingered in places nobody visited. She huffed and patted the statue, clearly she’d thought wrong.

  
Hoisting her satchel she turned west, towards the forest’s edge. She’d set up camp in a secluded hollow beneath the Elven ruin of Amon Lanc. Again she considered exploring it. However, the place gave her the creeps. She wasn’t sure why, exactly. Certainly she had entered ancient barrows and abandoned mines without a second thought. The ruin was an empty, dead thing, no doubt for centuries. She didn’t put much stock in the superstitious talk of the Lake Town residents, who called the ruin Dol Guldur in hushed tones. And yet, something bothered her about the place. Something beyond its crumbling statues and darkened skies that she couldn’t quite define. Like a disturbing sound almost heard, behind the usual noise of the world. She shook the unsettling thought. What nonsense.

  
The moment she breached the forest’s edge she immediately leapt back among the trees. Her heart pounded in her chest as she flattened herself against the bark. Out of the corners of her eyes she’d seen light amid the falling gloom. Light at Dol Guldur. She took several deep breaths, steading herself, before glancing around the tree. Surely enough, orange light flickered across the previously dark ruin. Shadows moved against it. They were over-sized but decently proportioned, lacking the gangly limbs and stooping built of goblins. Rangers? That’d be a welcome surprise. She could trade with them for supplies and continue her search a few days longer.

  
Her smile froze on her lips when one of the shadows moved and it’s owner appeared from behind a crumbling wall. That was no ranger! The mismatched armor and patched leather told her as much. She backed further amongst the trees, but he stopped walking towards her. She wondered why, though the acrid smell on the wind a moment later gave her a fair guess. Clamping a hand in front of her mouth she tried not to gag. She turned around and stared straight into a pair of lupine eyes.

  
The beast was big as a horse and had a shaggy, dirty white coat, long ears and a narrow muzzle. As they stood nose to snout it curled it’s lip up showing an impressive array of dagger-sized teeth. Lheodwyn swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She tried to stay still despite the overwhelming urge to run for the hills. Old Meg always said never to show a dog fear, or it’d pounce you sure as dawn. Not that she thought it an ordinary dog, but it looked canine and she’d rather not chance it.

  
“Hey there, buddy,” she said, her tone steady but definitely an octave higher than usual. The animal regarded her quietly. The uncanny intelligence in it’s amber gaze unnerved her. Lheodwyn gathered all the courage she could muster and reached out a hand to scratch behind a fluffy ear. The animal’s snarl slackened and she breathed a sigh of relief. At least it was canine enough to enjoy a good scratch.

  
“Whose a good boy, huh?” she cooed, though nearly jumped out of her skin when the animal snarled in fury. “You’re a girl?” she asked and when the beast snapped at her hand she quickly added: “I mean, of course you’re a lady! With such gorgeous fur and bright eyes. I wish I had teeth as strong and beautiful as yours.” Her compliments seemed to mollify the beast a little, who nudged her hand to continue scratching.

  
“Good girl, lovely you are,” Lheodwyn managed as she scratched the animal under its massive chin while slowly backing up. “It was great meeting you, but I really got to get goi—.” Her voice trailed off as she backed up against something solid. At first she thought it was a tree, but then it expanded against her back. Breath stirred her short hair and the feather in her hat. She pulled a face. Rather foul breath.

  
Lheodwyn turned around slowly, deliberately. All she saw at first was a scarred expanse of pale chest, until she tilted her head up, grabbing the brim of her hat to keep it from falling off. _By the stars, that was one big_ \-- her mind took a moment to click from 'goblin' to 'Orc'. She'd never seen an Orc before. Goblins, yes. They were about her own size, stooped, irregular limbed and ugly as sin. Reeked like a bog, too. The most descriptive anyone had ever gotten about Orc was saying that they were 'really big goblins'. She was pretty sure this counted as 'really big' but she didn’t think the towering, broad-shouldered, straight-limbed, bat-eared  thing was even remotely like a goblin. Clearly, Grant the ranger needed eye glasses.

  
She stared up at the Orc, chewing her bottom lip in thought as she made these assessments. Her mind kept trying to say 'him' even though that was ridiculous, everyone knew goblins – and no doubt Orc too – were sexless. He reminded her of something though, some sort of animal maybe? Something in the sharpness of his features. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Did Orc roam alone though? Goblins definitely didn’t. Her gaze jumped to the ruins, just visible through the trees, and the light flickering there. A huge muzzle appeared over her shoulder. She cast a brief glance at it from the corner of her eyes before laughing nervously and scratching the animal's chin as she looked back at the Orc looming over her. “Cute dog you have.”

  
The Orc made a barking noise that could have been a laugh, grinning bare a rather intimidating set of mismatched teeth. “She many things, not dog,” he snorted in broken Westron as he glanced down at the tiny Man. He reached past Lheodwyn to pat the Warg’s head with a firmness that would have rattled teeth on a lesser creature. Something seemed to amuse him, his blue eyes squinting slightly.

  
Lheodwyn's eyebrows rose, not having expected an articulated answer at all. Though he pronounced the words as if he bit off every syllable and his thick, guttural accent slurred them together, there was no denying that had been Westron. She recovered quickly, keenly aware she was stuck snout to neck and nose to chest between two predators. Better keep the conversation going lest they make dinner plans. “So you agree she’s cute?” Lheodwyn grinned, though kept her lips pressed together at the last moment. She’d rather not find out how baring one’s teeth might be interpreted by an Orc.

  
The Orc cocked his head sideways, irritation replacing his rapidly disappearing smirk. “Don't know word.”

  
“It's ah, specific for women!” Lheodwyn explained quickly. She'd been in a tavern often enough to know a temper when she saw one. _Keep your cool, Leo. Play for time. There'll come an opening to scram_. “When she looks nice,” she continued and indicated the Warg as she stepped out from between them. “Bright eyes, good built, soft fur.”

  
The Orc looked at her intently as he took in her words. “She is all that,” he agreed after a long moment, glancing at the Warg. She sat down beside him and lazily thumped her tail as he ruffled her ears.

  
“Exactly,” Lheodwyn said, finding the entire scene grotesque. “What’s her name?” she added in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

  
“Name,” he echoed, though there didn’t appear to be a question mark in there.

  
“I mean, how do you call her?” Lheodwyn elaborated.

  
“Don’t call her, she comes,” he answered as if it made perfect sense. He kept scratching the Warg, who leaned into his touch.

Lheodwyn frowned, trying to think of a different way to ask it. “Who is she?” she rephrased while she carefully edged away from them.

  
“Sharn,” he answered as the both of them looked up the second she moved, which was a little creepy.

  
Lheodwyn froze, feeling terribly uncomfortable under their stares. “Does it mean anything?” she managed.

  
The Orc broke his gaze away and cast it about for a moment, then scowled when he was unable to find what he was looking for. “Small flower,” he indicated, holding a thumb and finger close together. “Sun center.”

  
“Daisy?” Lheodwyn asked, her disbelief momentarily overcoming her fear. “Daisy,” she repeated as she looked at the enormous white beast with apprehension, it’s amber eyes still trained on her. “Cute.”

  
The Orc frowned, then nodded in agreement. “Your name?” he asked, blue eyes settling on her.

  
“Lheo—,” Lheodwyn started but stopped abruptly. She’d almost told an Orc her name. At least Leo was a common enough name to not immediately trace to her.

  
“Means?” He followed up as he looked down at her, suddenly standing right in front of her again.

  
“Lion,” she answered, grabbing the brim of her hat as she looked up. When had he moved? That scowl she was quickly starting to associated with confusion crept back onto his face. “Big cat,” she elaborated, holding her hands apart and giving the impression they were at least the size of Sharn.

  
A grin unfurled across his torn features. “Khâzrin,” he said as he leaned towards her, prodding her chest  with two fingers.

  
“What?” Lheodwyn leaned back, preferring not to be nose to nose with the Orc. Not in the least because of his terrible breath. It smelled of dead things.

His grin broadened at her evasive reaction, revealing those teeth again. “Small cat,” he smirked, holding a thumb and finger close together before indicating her again. A bark of laughter escaped him at the look she gave him.

  
“Hmpf,” Lheodwyn huffed as she crossed her arms, seizing the opportunity to take a few steps back. “What’s yours then?”

  
The Orc drew himself up to his full height, which turned out to be at least a hand taller still. Apparently men weren’t the only ones that habitually slouched. “Azog,” he declared on a tone as if it was supposed to mean something to her. He scowled at her lack of recognition.

  
“I was born far away!” Lheowdyn piped up as the silence rapidly grew threatening.

  
His blue eyes narrowed. “How far?”

  
“Very far - beyond the mountains,” she said as she indicated the Misty Mountains. “Beyond the moors, past the desolate lone lands even!”

  
“Bree?” It was a wild guess, he knew next to nothing of the lands of Man and had no interest to. However, judging by how pale the little Man became it had been an accurate guess. He grinned, enjoying the way a tremble shook her small frame as he stepped after her. Hunger stirred in the pit of his stomach. He leaned down, their noses all but touching. “Never had Bree Man before.”

Lheodwyn squeaked before she could stop herself, backing up and into the Warg. When had the beast moved? “I am not very tasty, I am sure,” she said as she squeezed her eyes shut and brought her hands up in front of her. “And anyway, I am skin and bones!”

  
Amusement lit his blue eyes as he trapped her between himself and Sharn once more. “Not much meat, no,” he agreed and reached for her. She made an interesting little noise when he squeezed her side. “Too little for dinner,” he concluded as if this was a regrettable thing. Lheodwyn opened an eye, keen to agree with the statement. Yet before she could formulate an answer he leaned further down and pressed his cheek past hers. She could feel the muscles in his jaw working as he spoke beside her ear: “maybe snack instead?”

  
That made her skin crawl. “So,” Lheodwyn managed, brushing over the unnerving topic and trying to keep her voice steady. “What does it mean? Your name?”

  
A thoughtful expression creased his face as he leaned back, then he indicated himself. “One.”

  
“One what?” she asked, surreptitiously trying to shake his touch. She didn’t like how he squeezed her side as if assessing how tender it was.

  
“One,” he said again, shaking his head and indicating himself. “Color.”

  
“One white? Light?” Lheodwyn guessed as she took a step sideways, but he tugged her back by her hip. “Pale? Pale one?” she squeaked as he loomed over her. “It means pale one? Well, that’s very clever. Did your mother name you all so aptly?”

  
Her sarcasm went straight over his head. “Galrin, she means smallest,” he answered.

  
“Let me guess, she’s as impressive of stature as me?” Lheodwyn returned. She wished he’d let go of her hip. When his hand moved down to palm her thigh instead she almost bit her tongue at the warm twinge shooting up her spine.

  
That toothy grin returned as he leaned towards her again, his nose brushing past her cheek. “Yes.”

  
Azog’s gaze lingered on a vein in her slender neck, pulsing with her rapid heartbeat. He licked past his teeth, his stomach making an emphatic noise as he felt the thin bone of her thigh through the soft flesh and firm muscle. Lheodwyn’s breathing was shallow and fast as she stared at him from the corners of her eyes. She held perfectly still, trying to keep herself from blind panic when she felt saliva leak onto her neck.

  
Azog had been about to sink his teeth in her when her scent jogged a memory. He pressed his nose behind her ear, knocking her hat off as he inhaled deeply. “You came through Moria,” he rumbled. They had found the campsite in one of the upper halls, a few days old. He’d caught the same scent there. It was a pleasant smell and reminded him how long he’d been on the road to Dol Guldur.

  
“How-,” she started, startled but keen to keep a conversation going. He couldn’t very well talk and eat her at the same time. She hoped.

  
“Moria is mine.” Azog firmly nuzzled her neck as his hand moved up her side, feeling the shape of her ribs. He liked how the thin bones bend under his touch.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trespass,” Lheodwyn replied hastily as she backed out of his hold. His impudent groping was affecting her in ways she hadn’t anticipated. She stared up at the tall Orc, forcefully reminding herself what kind of creature that hand was attached. She contemplated bolting. Her gaze shot at the dark forest.

  
“Stop,” Azog rumbled as he pulled her back by a shoulder.

  
“I can’t stay!” Lheodwyn yelped. Her back hitting his chest as he pulled her back felt like stumbling into a wall rather than a person. “I have things to do! In places!” she added, her gaze stuck on the limb circling her waist. It was missing a good chunk of it, replaced by a barbed claw that looked liable to give her lockjaw. How had she not noticed it before?

  
Azog made a disagreeing noise as he pressed his nose into the crease of her jaw. He palmed her stomach, there was little meat even there. Lheodwyn whimpered when she felt his tongue against her neck. “Don’t you have places to be?” she squeaked as she indicated the ruin, just visible through the trees.

  
Azog snarled, making her flinch. He was in no hurry to reach Dol Guldur. The Necromancer could summon him all he liked, he’d not come scurrying over like a beaten Warg. He’d fully intended to eat the little creature once he’d finished toying with her, a convenient delay before reaching Dol Guldur. However, the nature of his hunger had changed. The bizarre notion occurred to him that perhaps he could mate her. “Talks a lot for a snack,” he mused against her skin.

“I’m really not that good for eating,” Lheodwyn reiterated. “I eat a lot of herbs, I’ll probably give you a stomach ache—!” Her protest faltered abruptly when his hand slipped into her breeches, broad fingers searching. “I eh,” Lheodwyn said. She mewled when one of his fingers pressed against her entrance. _Oh lords, that felt good. Leo stop. Orc. Food. Not good._ Her thoughts came in fits and starts. She whined and latched onto his arm when he pushed it inside her.

  
Azog watched her squirm in his grasp with interest as he explored her, pressing his finger along her walls. Her insides were oddly wet and narrow compared to Orc women. He held her put as he pushed in a second finger, her behavior triggering a mix of urges. Her weak struggling made him want to rip into her, while her noises made him want to mate her.

  
Lheodwyn tried to keep her thoughts straight but his fingers moving inside her were terribly distracting. She could feel his hot breath in her neck. She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d landed herself in this situation and she had certainly not meant to distract him in this particular way, but at least he didn’t seem intend on having her for dinner any more? And though she was loath to admit it, it felt terribly good.

  
“Can it stretch more?” he asked as he moved his fingers apart.

  
A strangled noise escaped Lheodwyn at that. She looked up at the Orc looming behind her; his eyes had hooded and his breathing was heavier, his mouth open to accommodate it. “And with what do you plan on doing that?” she said, trying to not look at his teeth. Somehow she managed a grin. “Aren’t Orc grown from mud and slime?” At her question a slow grin unfurled across his torn features, making it impossible to ignore his shark-like teeth. Her mind saw fit to remind her those had torn Man flesh. A shiver ran down her spine that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

  
Azog grunted as he lifted her up, pushing her bum against his crotch. Lheodwyn froze against him. That felt a whole lot like a penis. The moment she thought of it, her body ached for it. There was no use denying it. “I guess that’s just a nasty rumor, then,” she half joked as she looked up at him. She scrapped her not inconsiderable amount of courage together and reached a hand behind her, between them. His smirk faltered when her hand brushed past his loincloth, her fingertips pressing along the base of his shaft. “What about your kind eating mine?” her gaze flicked to his closed mouth despite herself. “Is that a rumor too?”

  
Amusement lit his blue eyes as his grin returned, tugging at his torn lips and revealing those awfully sharp teeth again. He leaned towards her, his heavy breathing stirring her short hair. She could feel him harden as he replied: “No.”

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of time and hard work went into the creation and publication of this story and as such it is very dear to me. I would love to hear what you thought of it! If you decide to share my story, please credit and link back to me. Thank you!


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